Double Chocolate Indemnity
by cyrilandshirley
Summary: Not new, just a silly Stendan/film noir parody that might cheer you up.


_No idea if anyone reads my fic any more, but a few people seem sad tonight, so I'm reposting from tumblr my stupid Film Noir parody, where Brendan and Ste run away together to sell ice cream. If you read it, I hope it gives you a laugh. It can be their happy ending. xxx_

**Double Chocolate Indemnity**

It was well after midnight when Ste was woken by assertive hammering at the door of the flat. He'd only just fallen asleep, and his heart thumped as he struggled awake and shuffled to answer it. He swung the door open to find Brendan standing there, silhouetted against the street lights, half in shadow, imperative as always. Ste vaguely took in the fact he was wearing the suit and red shirt combo which got him most hot under the collar. It brought back some memories.

"Kids here?" Brendan asked.

"No," Ste said, squinting at him, "They're at Mike's with Amy."

"Good," Brendan said. He held something directly out in front of him for Ste. "Got you this." It was a 99 with a flake. He was holding another in his left hand for himself. Ste took it, more out of surprise than anything, as Brendan pushed him out of the way and came into the flat, giving his own cone a good lick as he went past, glancing down into his face.

Brendan turned to face Ste and took in the vision in front of him. Stephen, in one of his old polo shirts, unbuttoned, a capacious pair of boxers that came almost to his knees, hairy legs, and socks. His usually smart hair was mussed from bed and stood up vertically. He was dressed for comfort, not sex, and yet strangely, Brendan felt more aroused than ever.

"What do you want, Brendan?" Ste asked him, giving his cone an idle lick.

A muscle twitched in Brendan's cheek. He knew exactly what he wanted, always did. He cocked his head on one side and took a good long look at him, half smiling. His tongue found its way to his tache to lick off some of the ice cream which he knew had attached itself there.

Ste blushed in front of him. "I didn't mean that," he said, frowning. "What's up?"

Brendan's muscle twitched again, but he realised he could go on with the double entendres all night, and Ste would still probably never notice, so he cut to the chase. It was difficult. He cleared his throat.

"I've done something."

Ste froze, his tongue still out from licking the ice cream, coated with Mr Whippy. Eventually, he swallowed. Brendan watched the creamy whiteness disappear with a bob of his Adam's apple. He felt a distinct twitch in his groin. "What?" Ste asked suspiciously, looking like he didn't really want to know the answer.

Brendan coughed and looked around. Took another lick. Sighed. Shook his head. "Foxy always told me ice cream was a dangerous business."

Ste's eyes were wide. "Oh my god. You've torched Marchellos!"

Brendan looked back at him, gobsmacked. "No!" He frowned. "No! I know the kids love Marchellos. You know I'd never do that. Anyway," he said, "Marchello does me a good deal on the flakes."

Ste frowned. "What then?"

Brendan set his jaw. "The Houston gang."

"Danny's blokes?" Ste was confused. He'd thought that was all over long ago.

"Yeah," Brendan said, twitchy. "They moved into iced desserts after Danny …" he tailed off. "Anyway, remember I sent Rhys and Jacqui up in the van to cover the Blackpool pitch last weekend and someone let their tyres down?"

"Yeah," Ste looked a little shifty. He'd let down a few tyres in his time.

"Well I couldn't let that pass." He ground to a halt.

"What have you done, Brendan?" Ste asked, part stern, part fearful. "You've not …" He had visions of ice cream men floating in the sea around the Blackpool Tower.

"I broke into their freezers, Stephen, nicked their supplies."

Ste looked at him. That didn't sound so bad. He frowned. "But how will they know that was you?"

Brendan looked acutely awkward. "It was the mint choc chip I took."

Ste's mouth fell open. Everyone knew mint choc chip was Brendan's signature. "Where did you put it?" He was trembling.

Brendan coughed again. "In the river …"

Ste walked past him to the sink and dumped the remains of his cone. "Brendan, it's a pond!"

"Yeah, I should have remembered that," he said, frowning into his ice cream. "No current. It looks like a fecking Relish milkshake."

Ste faced up to him now, looking up at him through those long silky eyelashes. He knew, instinctively, there was more that Brendan wasn't telling him. "What else?"

Brendan's gaze was evasive. "Something … stupid."

"Tell me, Brendan."

Brendan breathed heavily. His hand went to his inside jacket pocket. He brought it out to reveal a plastic bag, full of a strange substance. He held it up.

The bag was full of tiny multi-coloured strands. Enough to make someone very very rich. And plenty of others high as a kite on the sugar content.

"Brendan," Ste said, his eyes wide at the implications. "You took their sprinkles?"

Brendan nodded.

There were almost tears in Stephen's eyes, he noticed. Damn, how could he get himself into these situations?

"What are you gonna do?" Ste asked him. Brendan knew that he was afraid for him. It made something tense and curl inside him.

"I need to get out for a bit," Brendan said, looking down into his eyes. "Till it all cools down."

"You're going away?" Ste asked him. He looked horror-struck.

"Yeah, for a bit. Not forever."

Stephen was now instinctively very close to him. "How long …?"

Brendan reached out a hand and stroked the tousled hair out of his eyes.

"Come with me," he said. Damn. Damn damn damn, he hadn't meant to say that. This was meant to be goodbye. But he could never damn well do it. Something about his eyes, and his mouth, and his neck, and his shoulders and chest and heart and hips and arse and legs and feet. All of it. He was just asking to be consumed and Brendan couldn't stop himself coming back for more. He'd long since given up trying.

"I can't," Ste said, just as instinctively. "The kids. Amy."

Brendan sighed. Always looking for problems.

"We'll send for them," he said. "When we get sorted."

Ste's eyebrows went up. There was a flicker of hope. "Really?"

"Sure," said Brendan. He held up the sprinkles. "Plenty here to keep us all in tutti frutti for a while." He set his jaw a little. Stephen came with baggage, some of which was more adorable than others. But hey, his own life wasn't so simple.

"I dunno Brendan …" Ste started, but Brendan could tell he wanted to be persuaded. It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it.

He looked down at the remains of his own cone, with the flake pushed right down inside. He'd always done that, he didn't know why. A smile flickered around his mouth. Brendan removed the flake from his cone again, and put it into his mouth, sucking the remaining ice cream off it, idly. He knew Ste was watching him. He kept it going a little longer than he should, and saw Ste's lips open. Then held it towards Ste's lips.

"You can have as many flakes as you can eat," Brendan said to him, in a low voice.

For a moment, Ste seemed to stand his ground, stubborn. "I've already had one," he said, shaking his head, but with a come-on in his eyes. The little fucker, Brendan found himself thinking. He leant in and spoke low into Ste's ear.

"I've seen you handle more," he said.

Ste looked up at him, and finally twitched into a smile. He opened his mouth, and let Brendan feed the flake between his lips. Their eyes met. And then Ste exposed his teeth, and bit it in two.

"Ouch," Brendan said, chucking the remaining piece over his shoulder, with the cone. "You'll pay for that," he said.

"Make me," Ste said.

And Brendan pushed his mouth over Stephen's and was immediately drowned in the sensation of chocolate. And Stephen sure made chocolate taste like it never tasted before.

* * *

"I've got transport, outside," Brendan had crooned into the crook of Stephen's neck, feeling Ste's sticky handprints on his arse, as they felt the heat of passion start to cool. He put out his tongue to lick Stephen's collar bone. Raspberry sauce. And this was nothing to the maple syrup in Stephen's armpit hair and his pubes. He rested on his arms and looked down at Stephen's body underneath him. There were sprinkles in his chest hair, his belly button and his treasure trail. God know where else. He was getting expensive tastes, Brendan found himself thinking. But this was one guy Brendan had no objection to keeping in champagne and sprinkles. He found himself wondering if he would develop a habit for Magnum Gold. He'd need to keep an eye on that.

Transport, Brendan had said. Ste had been imagining a 4 by 4, with tinted windows, for their escape. Or Brendan's sexy car. Not an ice cream van. But he was committed to this now. His bag was packed. A note left on the kitchen table for Amy.

GON WITH BREN COS I LUV HIM. WILL CALL. KISS THE KIDS. MIVVIS + CORNETOS IN ISE BOX.

He sat up alongside Brendan, watched him flex his arm muscles as he shifted gear. It was hot.

"You could teach me to drive this," he said.

Brendan could see the street lights shining in his eyes. It was the damndest thing. Stephen drove him insane. This wasn't what he'd meant at all when he came here tonight. But knowing that they were leaving together, even though he'd fought it for months, actually made him feel … he didn't really know this feeling. A kind of creamy satisfaction, combined with excitement. Happy? He grinned.

"Maybe, yeah," he said. "If you're good." He'd taught Ste plenty. No reason to stop now.

Ste pouted at him. "What does being good involve?"

The tease. Brendan held in a laugh. He raised an eyebrow. "Wearing the hat at all times."

Ste held it up. "What this?" Brendan had thrown it at him as he got in. It was one of those little paper hats people wear to serve burgers and shakes. Ste perched it on top of his head, pulled a few strands of hair out so he was still beautiful, and raised his eyebrows back. "At all times? Like, in bed?"

Brendan looked at him, long and hard. "Your words," he said. "Not mine."

Ste smirked and looked at the dashboard. "What does this do?" he asked, and pressed a button. Immediately, the sound of Born This Way in ice cream chimes blared around the estate. Brendan reached over and bashed it off.

"Stephen, for f … we're supposed to be making a getaway here!"

Ste wrinkled his nose. "Sorry." He looked back at Brendan, and relaxed back into the seat. Brendan was aware how much trust he was placing in him.

"Where we goin' then?" Ste asked him, his head leaning back.

His face was half in shadow, half illuminated by the street light. He could pick out the curve of an eyebrow, the tilt of his nose, the outline of his lips. Christ, Brendan found himself thinking, I'd go a long way for that. And the truth was, he hadn't thought. When it was just going to be him, it hadn't mattered. But he remembered something.

"I've heard Brighton's all right," Brendan said.

He watched this sink in. Stephen's face looked hesitant. "Brighton … really?"

Brendan just looked at him. "They eat a lot of ice cream in Brighton, so I'm told."

He felt a strange sense of satisfaction as Stephen's face broke into a smile.

"Brighton … you and me?"

Brendan grinned at him. "You up for that?"

Ste just nodded at him. Brendan felt that strange sense of responsibility and lightness again, that Stephen always gave him. He guessed it was love.

He revved up the engine and crunched the van into gear, but felt a hand close over his on the gear stick. He looked at him.

"I love you," Stephen said to him, and leant over and landed a kiss, lightly on his mouth.

As their lips parted, Brendan scrutinized his face. Then he grinned. "That's good," he said. "I thought you were just after my cornets."

Ste shook his head. Wrinkled his nose again. "I'm more interested in your Screwballs, really," he said. "Now take me to Brighton."

And Brendan swung the van out of the estate and into the night, with the hand of the man he indisputably loved placed possessively on his thigh.


End file.
